Dark Marble

One of the many embarrassing things I said in the dark 

Not by myself 

You and I, centering on a lustful thought 

Not together either 

Me placing an idea of beauty between motel sheets 

Not bad at their job

They covered us, blanketing the acts done to each other 

Not impulsive enough to be calculated

I would only see your silhouette with my dilated eyes 

Not a model or illustration  

You said pointing out my pretentiousness

Not a scar left 

Unexplored as we continued to mine each other past, through physicality 

No deeper appearances 

We sat in this figureless image, a mess of what was

No love 

You will tell me, only sensation